Against All Discouragement
by chemicallyattracted
Summary: Many things make a monster. Whether it's pain, vengeance, hatred, or betrayal. A good dosage of any can turn even the most civilized man into a rabid killer. But even the most terrifying of monsters has a sliver inside them that wishes to be normal. Even the most monstrous of men were once boys; and that's what Remy continues to hold on to. Bane/OC
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

_"All things truly wicked start from innocence." -Ernest Hemingway_

Her breathing had hitched. Behind the warm protection her mother provided her, Remy watched as the boy fought against the confining grips of the prison guard. He was small-not much larger than Remy herself-but the grown men keeping him steady struggled against his resistance. He fought with a desperation only found from someone about to be stripped of his or her freedom: he fought recklessly.

"Don't look, my dear," her mother whispered, holding her closer.

They had been in the town square when the shouts began. Before she knew it, Remy had been knocked over by a whirlwind of dirty blond hair and even dirtier clothes and skin. She had known instantly, and with a drop of her heart, that the blood that had stained her clothes had come from him. She had known, seconds later, as the guards charged past her and her mother pulled her out of harms way, that the blood did not belong to the boy, but instead to someone else.

And that's how she had ended up watching as the guards surrounded the boy and arrested him; all while being held by her mother, who feared that her daughter's innocence could not handle the scene before her.

But despite her mother's pleas to look away, Remy could not stop herself from the fascination she held towards this boy.

This boy who she'd seen, on many occasion, pass by the kiosk that her mother sold herbs from. He had always been dirty; wearing the same clothes each time she laid eyes on him. When she had asked her mother why he was that way, she had simply tutted and told her not to talk to him. Remy hadn't, of course-she was too shy to do that sort of thing; but it didn't stop her from thinking about him as she lay in bed at night, as she clung to the rag doll her father had given her when she was smaller. Did he have a bed of his own, a mother to sing him to sleep? Though she always hoped he did, her heart always knew better.

And now, there he was. Screaming at the top of his lungs, his throat hoarse and probably bloody from his efforts. Remy felt a pain in her chest, and for some reason her vision blurred from what had to be tears. She blinked, and gasped as his angry gaze came full circle and, for the first time, met her fearful hazel ones. Behind his hatred and confusion, she saw sadness. A sadness that reminded her of the nights after her father had left her mother and her: a sadness that would stay with her for many years to come.

"Help!" He screamed, and he looked right at her. "Please, help!" The guards were dragging him away from the city and towards, what her mother called, the one place on Earth that was connected to Hell.

The pit.

It was a place for the monsters of society. A place for those banished for their horrific crimes. A place where grown men went even more insane than they already were. A place that no one-not even the toughest of villains-had ever escaped from.

It was all of the world's worst nightmares combined, but it wasn't a place for little boys.

Remy closed her eyes, breathing in her mother's calming scent; her small hands gripped her doll for courage. When she opened them again, she looked directly at the boy with the saddest expression that had ever graced her delicate features.

"Help, please!" He screamed again, the tears streaming down his face. His eyes pleaded with her, as if for some reason a little girl could manage to save the life of a little boy. The look he gave her left an impression on her heart that even she, at her age, knew would stay with her as long as she lived. The look he gave her made her feel ashamed of the mother that was clinging to her.

She shook her head slowly. "I'm sorry," she mouthed back. "I'm sorry."

And with that, the boy broke. His eyes lost all their traces of anger and betrayal, and instead showed something even more heartbreaking-resolve. He had given up. His body slumped, and suddenly he was moving quickly away from the crowd of people both watching and ignoring the scene that had just unfolded.

She didn't blink as they dragged him further and further away from the city square. She didn't blink, as he became nothing but a dot in the distance. She didn't blink, for as long as she could, she kept her eyes trained looking directly into his, attempting to instill hope into the eyes that died more and more with each step away from civilization.

She hoped that this boy, whose childhood was stripped away from him out of starvation, would never become like one of the monsters in that pit. She hoped and prayed until, suddenly, she realized she could not see him anymore.

And when she did, a part of her tiny heart died a little.


	2. Chapter 1: The Daughter Of Shadows

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any characters associated with the Batman franchise.

** The Daughter Of Shadows**

_"Change in all things is sweet." -Aristotle_

* * *

PART I: The Before

She awoke with a start. Sitting up, Remy's head reeled. Her body was soaked with sweat, and the sweltering temperature of their home did nothing to help. Even in her daze, the haunting vision of the boy's eyes still remained with her. Beside her, her mother stirred.

"Remy? What's wrong?" She blinked sleepily up towards her daughter. "Another nightmare?"

"Nothing, Momma," she kissed her mother gingerly on the forehead. She didn't want to bother her with the same details again. "Ill just go get some water." She gently removed herself from the bed, walking to the adjoining room that served as kitchen, living room, dining room, and bathroom all in one. She poured herself a glass of water from the large copper jug that they kept. She leaned into the counter, looking out their window towards the city sky

At the age of twenty, Remy had not seen much of the world. What little she knew of the outside, she knew from snippets overheard from the travelers who passed through the city. She knew that there were cities where even the hottest of temperatures were masked with technology; she knew that there were people whose income made thousands of dollars look like pennies, she knew of places where even the poor were happy.

She only wished that she could experience it herself.

With a sigh, she placed her empty glass onto the wooden counter, wiping dirt off the side as she did so. She closed her eyes, replaying her dream once again. It had been eleven years since that anonymous little boy-one of many more to come-was dragged away to the Pit, and yet Remy could still remember those dark eyes as if it had happened the day before. Since that day, many years before, the city had changed. Or, at least, to Remy it had. She could not tell whether she had been misled prior to what happened, but the world seemed a bit crueler the next day.

The king's daughter, for one, had been lowered into the pit a couple years after that fateful day the boy was taken. The beloved princess, who greeted all with kindness, had apparently betrayed the kingdom to some Mercenary. No one knew the details of the betrayal, and those who gossiped too loudly were taken away or exiled. From what Remy could tell, the King's rule over the kingdom became crueler the day after his daughter was lowered; that morning the King lost his princess was the first of many she spent hiding inside rather than out with her mother.

* * *

It was odd, but in their village, it was safer to be out under moonlight, than to be caught under the scrutiny of the son. The King's army was everywhere during the day-watching, listening, taking. There was no more freedom in the city wall during the day, and what was once a rambunctious city square became a quiet marketplace. While the air remained light on days where tourists and travelers passed through, every citizen knew that they were being monitored.

Thus, it came to be that during the night, when the guards went to their homes and laid with their wives, or the wives of others, the city would breathe the breath it had been holding in throughout the day, and the citizens could finally talk freely, with laughter in the air.

Which is why, when the air grazed against her skin, now dry of sweat, and Remy stood straight, she decided that she needed to go on a walk. Placing the glass next to her mother's-they only had two-Remy walked quietly out the door, shutting it without a sound behind her. She picked the route she always chose, the one that led down the staircase leading to her home and wrapped along the palace walls. When she was a little girl she had often adventured there during the day, imagining herself as a princess or as a herbalist like her mother. She would often collect roots and grass in her pockets to bring home, only to discover from her mother that they were good for nothing despite her absolute fascination with them.

She had not been walking long when she heard a faint rustle. She didn't think much of it, too lost in her thoughts and fantasies. All of the villagers knew who she was, and though she knew no self-defense, her knowledge in healing allowed her to be spared of any harm. It was when there was a loud crash as a crate fell to the ground when Remy stopped mid-stride.

The silence that followed was deafening.

She felt the hairs on her neck and arms suddenly raise and her pulse quicken in anticipation. Swallowing slowly, she turned around. What she saw was not a menacing soldier of the army, but instead a fearful looking little girl.

When she realized that Remy had seen her, she froze. Her intelligent eyes darted everywhere around her, looking for a route to escape through, but she found none. Blinking, her stance grew defensive as she trained her gaze directly at Remy's and waited, expectantly, for her to react.

Remy took a moment to assess the situation. Her body was thin-skinny even-and the clothing she wore looked as if it had been worn everyday for as long as she had lived. Her skin was dirty-completely covered in dust that clung to her sticky skin-and Remy wondered briefly if she was the King's daughter. She looked like she had come straight from the Pit! But Remy knew better than to assume such things; she was too young.

The little girl's hair was shaved haphazardly, as if to hide her gender; but her eyes, her eyes gave her away. In them, Remy saw fear; but she also saw something she had not seen for eleven years: a determination to be free. And in that moment, Remy knew that this girl had, indeed, come from the bottoms of Hell.

"What's your name, my dear?" Remy said, her voice anything but menacing. She took a tentative step towards the girl, who, in turn, took a step back.

The girl hesitated, looking down at her hands before looking back to her. "Talia," she said evenly, "Talia Al Ghul."

Something stirred in the back of her mind, but Remy shook the thought away. For now, she wished only to feed and shelter this poor creature.

"Talia," she rolled the name off her tongue, "that's a beautiful name."

Talia nodded in return.

"You can call me Remy."

She nodded again, this time not stepping away when Remy approached her.

"You look like you could do with some food and water," Remy said once she was in front of her.

In response, the sound of hunger filled the air. Talia looked down in surprise at her stomach, unsure as to how it had made such an inhumane sound. She looked back up in shock, and Remy laughed lightly. In response, Talia smiled.

"Come with me, child," Remy said, placing her hand gently on Talia's shoulder. "Let's get some food into you."

As Remy brought out bread and and different cheeses, Talia drank about six glasses of water. Once Remy has sliced the bread and cheese properly, she began to eat quickly, not bothering to stop and swallow too properly.

Remy chuckled. "I see you're hungry."

Talia stopped, suddenly, and chewed slowly before swallowing and wiping her mouth of any crumbs. She looked meaningfully down at her half-filled plate, but, as if with a moments decision, set her hands on the table and looked up at Remy with an urgency.

"Thank you for the food and water," she said first.

Remy nodded. "It's not a problem." She waited expectantly, knowing that this little girl brought with her a big story.

"Well..." She looked down, again, at her bread. "Where should I begin..."

* * *

It had been a sleepless night, filled with one of the longest stories that Remy had ever been told. It brought out emotions in her that she had not felt in quite some time-anger, heartbreak, warmth, and despair. Despair for the man who sacrificed himself for Talia, hatred towards the King who so selfishly threw his daughter-who was with child, for God's sake-into Hell on Earth.

Mostly, though, Remy was fascinated. Fascinated that such a small creature could be so intelligent. Fascinated by her background, and the Mercenary who was her father-who had been exiled out of this very city! Fascinated by the stories she told of Bane, her savior, who so willingly sacrificed himself in order to preserve the life of an innocent girl. By the end of it, Talia had only one question to ask as her eyelids drooped down.

"Please...Will you help me?"

Remy looked at her, and without hesitation, said, "yes."

The next morning was quiet. Strangely quiet. It was as if the kingdom knew what had transpired the night before, the truth that had been revealed. As Remy tucked Talia into the small pile of blankets and fabrics they kept in the front portion of their home, she felt a small part of her heart-a part she believed to be dead-come to life again. She looked down at the girl, whose face was finally clean of all the grub she had grown accustomed to, and who, Remy knew, would be her ticket out of the city. Talia was a beautiful girl, and like that little boy years ago, she had asked for Remy's fault. But unlike before, this time, Remy could help.

Walking into her mother's room, she saw that her mother was already putting on her clothes for the day: modest ones, that hid all of the beautiful curves that she had. Standing at the doorway, Remy watched, bittersweet, as her mother continued her morning routine.

"Momma..." Remy felt her throat constrict. How foolish of her to feel this way so soon. It would be another two days before her and her new companion would set out on the journey!

"That little girl..." said her mother, softly, "she reminds you of that boy, doesn't she?" She turned towards Remy, finally, with a sad smile. "You're going to help her, aren't you?"

Remy nodded. "I have to."

Her mother nodded. "I knew you were too good to be in this city forever. Just promise me you will not forget your Momma."

"Oh, Momma, of course not!" Before she knew she was wrapped into her mother's familiar arms, hugging her as tight as she could. "I'll come back, I promise."

Her mother remained silent for quite some time. "I'll only be disappointed if you do."


End file.
